


I Could Write It Better Than You Ever Felt It

by celeste9



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alien Culture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Denial of Feelings, First Time, Frenemies, Friends With Benefits, Fuckbuddies, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 11:32:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15728553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9
Summary: Ben had never been as easily taken in by Poe's wide smile and flirting as everyone else seemed to be; he had reason to know better than anyone that Poe couldn't be taken seriously. When a momentary lapse in judgment led to Poe in his bed more times than could rightly be considered an accident, Ben was sure it was only because the sex was good. He didn't know what you called a friends with benefits arrangement when you weren't friends and hadn't been for fifteen years, but he did know one thing.He absolutely didn't like Poe Dameron.





	I Could Write It Better Than You Ever Felt It

**Author's Note:**

> For Unconventional Courtship, inspired by this harlequin romance summary: 'An exposé…or just exposed? Anything for the sake of the story. That explains why journalist Emma Gideon is participating in a large-scale nude photo shoot. Yeah, it’s a stretch for a girl with an old-fashioned side. Worse, sporting only green body paint, she’s on display for Kyle Hadley—the office flirt and her rival at the paper. These unique circumstances are creating a sizzling complication to their rivalry… Despite her boss’s rule of “no hanky-panky,” Emma ends up in Kyle’s shower…with him! And that’s hotter than she ever imagined. When he suggests a continuation, how can she refuse? But has Emma risked her career for a sexy new development…or is this a severe case of overexposure?' -Double Exposure, by Erin McCarthy
> 
> Set in some sort of no Snoke AU, though I half-imagine the FO is still out there, just delayed? Title from Fall Out Boy.

Ben was actually looking forward to the next few days, a bit of tranquility at work while Poe Dameron was away on assignment, none of his irritating chattering and constant flirting. He probably should have known it would go wrong.

In the afternoon he got called into his mother’s office, which wasn’t necessarily an indication of trouble. It just meant she probably had an assignment for him. Maybe it would mean a trip off-world, like Poe had gotten.

It did, but not the way Ben had anticipated. His rare feeling of hopeful optimism dwindled away as his mother kept talking.

“But that’s Poe’s assignment,” Ben protested as soon as she gave him a moment to.

Leia Organa gave him the sort of look that had quailed those of lesser constitution in the Senate. “I’m sending you as well. Different eyes and all that.”

“But it’s just a… a cultural festival.”

“Your point?”

Ben knew better than to push it. “What do you want me to do? Poe’s already reporting on it.”

“Choose your own angle. I’ll publish whichever story is better.”

“You want us to compete?” It wasn’t as though Ben and Poe hadn’t created their own rivalry anyway, but that seemed different from his mother deliberately pitting them against each other.

She shrugged. “A bit of competition is good. You’ll both write me a better story than you would have otherwise. Now go pack, your shuttle leaves in two hours. Should get you on Trelos the afternoon of the festival.” She focused back on her datapad and Ben knew he was dismissed.

He shuffled back out to his desk to collect his things. Blast. Instead of a couple of blissful days without Poe’s face, he was going to be stuck at some dumb festival with him. He wondered if he could perhaps manage to avoid seeing Poe altogether. Maybe Poe didn’t even know Ben was coming.

Journalism wasn’t what Ben had imagined doing with his life, but then, he had never considered much beyond being a Jedi and he had turned out to be kind of a poor one. When his mother, disillusioned with the Senate, had taken up reporting in an attempt to keep the New Republic honest, Ben had been in a bad place, uncertain of his future, uncomfortable with the fear and doubt in his uncle’s eyes. Going with her had seemed like a pretty good option.

And it had been okay. Ben knew he wasn’t the most natural journalist, given what his mother called an appalling lack of interpersonal skills, but he didn’t hate it.

Then Poe Dameron arrived, fresh off his retirement from the Navy. Poe was everything Ben wasn’t, friendly, sociable, gregarious. He charmed everyone in the office within a day.

Aside from Ben.

Ben remembered that Poe had always been like this, insufferably talkative and cheerful, since they were kids. Ben wasn’t so easily bought with a wide smile or led in by Poe’s easy flirtations; Ben knew that Poe flirted as easily as he breathed. 

It didn’t mean anything. Nothing Poe did or said meant anything.

His piece on the festival would be fluff, Ben was sure of it. This would be the easiest assignment he had ever had.

-

The planet was called Trelos and it was a hot, humid, jungle planet in the Mid Rim. Ben hated it, engulfed in disgustingly thick, sticky air the moment he stepped off the transport.

Poe would probably be right at home. He’d always loved Yavin 4.

Ben trudged to the hotel where his room was booked, which was thankfully close to the spaceport and yet still not close enough. He shouldered his bag, feeling sweat roll down the back of his neck, his hair turning lank in the wet heat. 

He was already bad-tempered as he arrived at the hotel, having taken one wrong turn and then barely avoiding a collision with a kid on a speeder bike. The clerk at the desk gave him a bright, practiced smile which Ben was in no mood to return.

His room was on the second floor, small but clean. Ben had just enough time to shower before he needed to head out and the cool water on his skin almost made him feel better.

The anticipatory, celebratory atmosphere of the town was lost on Ben as he left the hotel to walk to the site where the festival was being held. All around him Trelosians were laughing and talking, enjoying the warm day and each others’ company, but Ben just felt hot and sweaty again already, and annoyed that he was here to begin with. It might have been an easy assignment but it wasn’t how he had planned to spend his time.

“Stop moping, it’s a party,” Ben heard someone call behind him, and he closed his eyes for a second.

Damn. He had hoped he might make it through this without even having to see Poe, let alone interact with him.

“Poe,” he said, reluctantly turning around.

Poe looked stupidly attractive for this temperature, the heat only making his hair curlier in a way that was pleasing to the eye, his skin warmly flushed but not in the gross, sweaty way that Ben felt. “I thought that was you coming out of the hotel. We’re on the same floor.”

“Amazing.”

“Your mom told me you were coming. This is gonna be fun, huh?” He came up even with Ben and squeezed his shoulder before they resumed walking.

“It’s a job.”

“Well, with that attitude…”

They fell in with the crowd of Trelosians pouring into the large, open square that would be the center of the festival, a town gathering site. The Trelosians called it  _ Calath,  _ the festival of colors, a sort of celebration of life and renewal. As Ben understood it, the adult activity involved a lot of imbibing of wine and some native fruits that had aphrodisiac qualities.

That was probably why Poe was excited, Ben thought unkindly. He was sure to find someone - maybe multiple someones - to take him to bed. Trelosians were humanoid and thus entirely compatible; their natural build was slightly smaller than humans and their complexions dark.

They also, apparently, had little concern regarding concepts of nudity and modesty. Most had stripped to undergarments or less, splattering each other with plant-based dyes that were in buckets spread around periodically.

“You can be mopey if you like but I’m gonna enjoy this,” Poe declared, taking it all in with wide-eyed excitement. “I guess we just leave our clothes wherever?”

“Our clothes?” Ben said, trying not to gape.

“Uh, yeah. I mean, I’m not particularly attached to these pants but I’d still rather not get paint all over them, and anyway, it’s part of the whole thing.” Poe waved his hand at their surroundings.

“You can’t mean to actually get involved.”

“Weren’t you?”

“No!”

Poe shrugged, looking genuinely befuddled. “But how can you write a story without actually experiencing it?”

“It’s called journalism.”

“Yeah, see, there’s your problem. Your writing lacks feeling. It’s clinical.”

“And yours is overly sentimental.”

The corner of Poe’s mouth was twitching and he was clearly more amused than offended. “Okay, whatever, do what you want but I’m gonna get in there.” His lips twitched into a smirk. “This is a competition, right? Well,” he said, ticking the points off on his fingers, “I’m a better pilot, I’ve got better hair, your mom likes me better… and I’m gonna get the better story.”

Ben stared at him, infuriated, as Poe kept giving him that sly, smug smirk until he turned around, pulling his shirt off over his head to reveal toned shoulders and arms, as beautifully bronzed as the rest of him. Fuck him.

“Like hell you’re a better pilot,” Ben muttered to himself before yanking off his own shirt and heading off after Poe. 

Poe’s smirk only broadened as Ben caught up to him, and they left their clothing in a pile on a bench.

“This doesn’t seem safe,” Ben observed, clutching his hotel key card and folding his pants below his shirt, stuffing them beneath Poe’s. He hoped no one would rifle through the pockets and take his credits. Reluctantly he stuck the key card in another pocket.

He was self-conscious of the bareness of his skin, nothing but his black underwear, and wanted to carefully adjust the fit. He felt like he couldn’t exactly do that in public, though, when people might be watching, and especially not in front of Poe. No need to draw attention.

He caught Poe’s gaze flickering down his body and blushed; Poe was smiling faintly when they made eye contact.

“You could use some sun,” he said, and meandered off into the crowd, hips swinging to match the beat of the music playing.

Ben scowled and raised his holorecorder, planning on filming some of the festival to help with his article. Fuck Poe. He would surely find some beautiful Trelosian in a matter of minutes, probably two, even. Then he could make his story about his sex adventures during  _ Calath _ on Trelos or something. A personal fluff piece.

The dancing, laughing Trelosians jostled Ben as he cut through with his holorecorder, completely disinterested in any concept of personal space. The video would be good, though, he thought, catching their joyous expressions and the ease and freedom in their movements.

Then something wet and sticky splashed him in the face and he blinked and swore as Poe’s grinning face took prominence in his viewscreen. “Fuck you,” he said, wiping dripping green paint down his cheek.

Poe flung another glob at him, hitting him in the chest; it was yellow this time. Ben shut off the holorecorder and hid it behind his back, tucking it into the waistband of his underwear, afraid of gumming it up with paint.

“Fuck you, asshole,” Ben said again, but Poe only laughed. He was already pretty well covered in the dye, quickly fitting in even here, as he always did.

“Aw, come on, Ben,” Poe said, gliding up to him and pushing him into a welcoming group of dancing Trelosians. “You’re not participating, you’re just watching. Like always. Loosen up! Have fun!” Poe took his hands when Ben ducked out of the dance and swung him around, then leaned up close, on his tiptoes, his lips near Ben’s ear. “I promise it won’t kill you.”

Ben shivered and then flushed, not sure if it was anger or embarrassment or both. He pulled away from Poe and stuck his hands into the nearest bucket, flinging green dye that caught Poe all down his back.

Poe only laughed and laughed, the brightest sound Ben had ever heard, and got him back with fistfuls of red paint.

Ben absolutely was not enjoying himself.

-

The wine was sweet and seemed to never run out, and Ben kept waiting for Poe to disappear with one of the Trelosians he smiled at and danced with and made friends with, but he never did. His hands glided down some woman’s waist or over some guy’s back but he always came back to Ben, still smiling hugely, and dragged him into another dance instead, his body warm and sinuous, his tan skin drenched in colorful paint. There was paint in his dark hair, even, and Ben shuddered to think what he himself must look like.

He definitely didn’t enjoy himself and if he stayed out until the moons were large in the night sky, it was only because he wanted to write a good story.

He was maybe a little tipsy when he meandered over to his clothes, stumbling in the dark, and Poe ran after him, sliding his arm around Ben’s waist. He smelled woodsy and fresh, like the plant dyes, and it wasn’t unappealing. His body was still so warm, even if his arm was a little sticky against Ben’s bare skin.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you drunk before,” Poe said. “It’s not a bad look.”

“Not drunk.”

“Okay. Still, I can’t believe you actually listened to me. I saw you enjoying yourself out there.”

Ben wanted to smile but that was stupid; it must have been the wine. He struggled into his pants. “Just making sure my story will be better than yours.”

“Uh huh.” Poe bent over to slide his pants on and Ben wasn’t looking, not even a little.

“Why’re you pretending to come back to the hotel? There’s at least five Trelosians waiting to take you to the nearest flat surface.” Ben paused. “Or honestly, the nearest tree. Think that’d do some of them fine.”

Poe’s laugh was sharp and surprised. “Give me some credit. I’m on the job.”

Ben waved his hand as soon as he’d gotten it through his shirt. “Thought you were all about authenticity. Or whatever.”

“There’s authenticity and then there’s… fucking the people you’re writing about. Personally I feel like that crosses a line.”

“Didn’t know you had a line.” Ben started walking, leaving Poe to either follow him or go find one of those willing Trelosians.

He followed. “I’m not sure if you’re more of an asshole when you’re drunk or if you just haven’t spoken to me this much in a long time so I’d forgotten how assholish normal you is.”

“Think you bring out the asshole in me.”

“Aw, I’m flattered.”

The road to the hotel was filled with revelers, all a little drunk on wine and life and probably those aphrodisiac fruits Ben had kept turning down. The festival was kind of silly but Ben almost liked it anyway, nothing but an excuse to be happy.

Ben couldn’t even escape from Poe once they returned to the hotel, given that it looked like they had rooms on the same floor. Poe took the steps after him, keeping pace even when Ben tried to go faster, willing his alcohol-dulled limbs to move properly.

Finally Ben reached his door and Poe said, “Guess this makes it a night,” and waved at him as he continued further down the hall.

Ben reached for his key card and came up blank. He was certain he had put it in his pocket, but there was his holorecorder, datapad, credits, all untouched, but no key card. He must have dropped it.

“You’ve got to be kriffing kidding me,” Ben muttered, frantically searching his pockets though he knew it was no use.

“Need some help?” Poe called from across the hall.

“No.”

“You sure? ‘Cause from here it looks like you can’t get into your room.”

“I’m fine,” Ben insisted, irritated, though he wasn’t sure if it was directed at Poe or at himself. Probably he had enough to go around. “Lost my key; I’ll have to get a new one.”

“That stinks. You want to use my shower first?”

Ben stared. “Huh?”

Poe was leaning against the doorframe, the door itself pushed half open. “I mean, if you wanna go down to the desk like that, be my guest. Just figured I’d be helpful.”

Looking at himself, Ben realized Poe had a point. His skin was starting to feel tacky. He was sweaty and covered in paint, a disaster, really. It wasn’t like the staff would be surprised, but it was… embarrassing.

A shower sounded so good.

“Just a quick one,” Ben said, striding forward. Poe let him in with a smile, closing the door behind them both.

Poe’s room was essentially a mirror version of Ben’s, if a bit messier. He had spent the previous night here and his living habits, as Ben remembered from their childhood, tended toward controlled chaos. A jacket hung over the back of the desk chair, clothes were spread across the bed, and various toiletries were scattered on the counter in the refresher, the door half open as Ben passed.

“I’ll just go in then,” Ben said, feeling awkward, and shut himself into the refresher.

He realized as he undressed that he lacked a change of clothing and would have to put the same outfit back on after he showered. He hoped not too much paint had rubbed off on it but at least he’d be able to change once he got back into his own room.

And then fall into bed. That sounded perfect.

He almost tripped over himself when Poe banged on the door and then came in, not even waiting for Ben to respond. “Kriff!” Ben swore, clutching his underwear in front of his groin. “What the hell!”

“Sorry,” Poe said, though he didn’t sound sorry. “I just… have a proposition. I thought maybe we could conserve water and, you know, share.”

“Share?”

“I can wash your back?”

“I’m thirty. Think I can wash my own back.”

Poe gave an exaggerated, put-upon sigh. “I’m trying to seduce you, okay, work with me here.”

Oh, kriff, of course he was. “I’m not one of the beings you charm in the office.”

“Yeah, and we’re not in the office.” Poe moved a little closer. “We were having a good time, right? And I know you liked dancing with me.” His gaze flickered down and back up. “Underwear doesn’t hide much, even if it’s still on.”

Ben hoped the paint on his skin disguised his blush. “You’re not as charming as you think you are.”

“Ben,” Poe said, and sighed again, though it seemed more natural this time. “Do you remember when we were kids, you followed me around? You had the biggest crush on me.”

No. No, no, no, kriff, no. “I remember you were a dick about it.”

“I didn’t mean to be.” Poe seemed genuinely disheartened by that, gnawing on his lip. “I’m just… I don’t know why you… dislike me so much now. Would it kill you to be less of a jerk and say good morning back to me once in a while?”

“I don’t know, would it kill you to tone down the flirting?”

“Why, jealous?” Poe’s familiar smile was back, the one he used when he was trying to get something. Another step forward and he was in Ben’s space, curling his fingers around Ben’s wrist, dragging his hand away from his crotch.

Maybe it was the wine, or the atmosphere, or who the hell knew what, but it definitely wasn’t Poe’s fucking smile that made Ben lean down when Poe leaned up, their lips meeting in a kiss that felt nicer than it had any right to. Poe’s hands were on Ben’s skin and Ben wrapped his arms around Poe’s back, forgetting about his whole not wearing any clothes situation until Poe pressed closer still, lips parting, and Ben’s dick rubbed pleasantly against Poe’s stomach.

It was the wine, it had to be, Ben didn’t fall for Poe’s flirting, never, he knew exactly what - 

“I know you can wash your own back,” Poe murmured against Ben’s mouth, “but it’ll be more fun if I do it. Plus you don’t want to miss any paint, right? So it’s practical, really.”

“Yeah,” Ben said, and realized he had dropped his underwear on the floor at some point during his not entirely intentional groping of Poe. He was just there, okay, Ben couldn’t help it.

Poe ran his tongue over his bottom lip and stepped back, just enough to shed his clothes. Ben couldn’t help watching, though he got the impression Poe had intended him to, anyway. He wanted to think that Poe looked kind of silly, his ass and groin weirdly paint-free compared to the rest of him, but instead Ben could feel a flush going up his chest and he really just wanted - why did he have to be so damn  _ attractive -  _

His smile indicating that he could guess what Ben was thinking, Poe leaned over to switch the water on, surely intentionally angling himself to give Ben the perfect view of his ass. He let the water drip over his fingers as he checked the temperature and then got in, making a beckoning gesture to Ben that wouldn’t have been out of place in a porn holovid, maybe one of the cheesier, faux-romantic ones.

Not that Ben watched those.

Ben stepped into the ‘fresher, letting the hot water drench him just as it was drenching Poe, his black hair dripping, pools of colored water beginning to form at their feet as the paint came off. Poe spread his hand over Ben’s hip and pressed in like he was going for another kiss; instead he leaned around Ben for the soap.

Ben shuddered at the feel of Poe’s hands on him, slow and gentle, genuinely making an effort to wash off the streaks of dye. He really needed to use something more than his hands to scrub but Ben wasn’t exactly inclined to complain. When Poe’s hand moved to his dick, lightly squeezing, Ben gasped and said, “I, uh, I’m not sure this is such a great idea. We still have to. Uh. Work together?”

Not that that seemed to be a problem with the rest of the office. Sometimes Ben wondered how long Poe’s list was.

“We’re not in the office,” Poe pointed out, his hand still curled around Ben’s dick even though it was about the only part of him that was pretty much clean. He reached his other hand around Ben’s waist, sliding over his low back, squeezing his ass.

Ben forgot why he had been protesting.

-

It all got a bit awkward after they got off.

Ben almost tripped over the side trying to duck out of the ‘fresher as Poe turned the water off; he ignored Poe’s quiet laughter as well as the blush creeping up his neck. He yanked his clothes back on as Poe joined him more lazily, radiating smugness.

Kriff. Why had Ben done it? Poe was going to be insufferable. Ben had never wanted to be on his fucking conquest list.

Not even when they were young and Ben had thought that Poe was - 

Blast it. He should have declined the wine. He should have listened to his kriffing head.

“Hey,” Poe said. “Look what I found. Must’ve got mixed up in my stuff when we were at the festival.”

He was holding out Ben’s key card, expression vaguely amused.

Oh, hell, no.

Ben snatched it from his hand and strode out of the refresher. “A complete accident, I’m sure.”

He ignored Poe’s response, all but running out the door into the hall.

He was such a fucking idiot.

-

Back on Hosnian Prime, Ben honestly wasn’t sure what he expected, or what he wanted. In all honesty it would probably be best to just pretend the whole sorry thing had never happened. So he and Poe fucked, who cared?

But when Poe swept into the office and gave Ben the same smile he always did, the same smile he gave everyone, and said, “Morning,” like nothing was different, like he hadn’t sucked Ben’s dick in a hotel ‘fresher, well… Ben scowled at his monitor and ignored him.

“Okay, then,” Ben heard Poe mutter under his breath as he moved off.

Ben spent the day sulking because he felt like he was owed that at least, and he absolutely neither noticed nor cared when Poe sat on the edge of Kaydel’s desk and made her laugh. He also definitely didn’t purposely knock Poe’s mug of caf onto the floor when he passed his desk, heading into his mother’s office.

“You wanted me?” Ben said once he was looking at his mother, knowing that this had to be about the Trelos story.

“Just quickly,” she said, still typing, and then she met his eyes. “I wanted to tell you that your article on Trelos was really quite good; I think it’s some of the best writing you’ve ever done. Felt very present, and… visceral.”

“I… Good,” he said, swallowing. “So you’re publishing mine?”

Leia sat back in her chair, arms folded. “No. I’m publishing Poe’s.”

“What? But you just…”

“Your story was very good, and I hope you’ll continue to write me stories like that. But yours was still just a report. Poe’s had genuine relevance; he wrote about the importance of individual planetary culture, and what it means to the planet’s inhabitants, and holding onto that. It’s the sort of story we need, the sort of feeling we need now, as we rebuild from the war, as we avoid the next one. The Empire--”

“I don’t need a lecture, Mom,” Ben interrupted, and his mother pursed her lips.

“No. Of course not. I just want you to understand that it isn’t enough to tell me what’s happening; you need to tell me why, and why it matters.”

“Yeah,” Ben said, and let himself out.

Kriffing Poe. 

-

Ben was in the middle of an extremely engrossing evening spent on his couch watching a horror film, contemplating if his desire for alcohol was worth having to go out and buy any, when someone knocked at the door. He ignored it, hoping they’d go away.

They knocked again. Ben sighed. It had better be important.

He opened the door to Poe, vaguely sheepish, holding out a bottle of whiskey.

“Hey,” Poe said, when Ben just stared. “Can I come in? I brought booze.”

Fuck him. Fuck him all the way to the Unknown Regions.

“Okay,” Ben said, and stepped aside so Poe could come in. “Why are you here?”

Poe waved the bottle up as he walked farther in, making no effort to hide the way he was eyeing up Ben’s apartment. Ben had a ridiculous surge of anxiety over the state of his place even though he knew it had to be far cleaner than Poe’s ever was. 

“You’re here to bring me booze?”

“Peace offering?” Poe turned to face Ben. “Anyway when you left the office you looked like you might need it.”

“Sure you don’t just want to gloat?”

“Huh?”

“Looks like you wrote the better story after all.”

“Oh. Yeah. You aren’t actually bothered about that, are you?”

_ Of course not,  _ Ben thought.  _ I took your advice, which actually was good advice, wrote a good story, and still couldn’t write something better than you. Of course I’m not annoyed. _

And that wasn’t even mentioning the fact he’d let Poe fuck him in the refresher.

“I didn’t need you to bring me kriffing alcohol,” Ben said, stealing the bottle from Poe, deliberately ignoring the way their hands brushed.

“Just being friendly,” Poe said, following Ben into the kitchen and hopping up onto the counter.

Ben scowled as he got down a couple of glasses from the cabinet. “I’d prefer not to have your ass where I prepare food.”

“You didn’t mind my ass before.” Poe gave him that grin, the one he used on Kaydel and the rest of them in the office. The one he’d used on Trelos.

The whiskey burned down Ben’s throat as he downed the glass nearly as quickly as he poured it. He refilled it, then poured another for Poe.

Poe was still giving him that stupid smile as he accepted the glass. “So you did need a drink.”

“It would be rude to turn it down, since you brought the bottle.”

“Uh huh,” Poe said, and laughed. “On the subject of rudeness, I noticed you still couldn’t even say hi to me when I came in this morning.”

“Didn’t think you made much of a habit of keeping your conquests around,” Ben said, and drowned himself in the rest of his drink. He poured another.

“I… what?” Poe was making this scrunched up, confused expression that Ben didn’t find attractive in the least, because Poe was an asshole.

“Fuck ‘em and leave, isn’t that how you do it?”

“I’m so confused.” Poe set his drink on the counter. “Do you want to do it again? Is that why you’re pissed? Because I can make that happen.”

“That assumes I want to.”

“Do you?” Poe spread his legs a little and Ben tried not to look.

“Maybe you should try Kaydel next,” Ben said, counting the cracks in his ceiling. “She seemed into you when you were throwing yourself at her today.”

“Stars.” After a moment of silence, Poe seemed to come to a decision. “Ben,” he said. “Get over here.”

Ben didn’t want to but for some reason he was walking the few steps over to Poe’s perch anyway. He stood between Poe’s knees and finished his drink before Poe took the glass from his fingers, setting it aside with a faint clinking sound. His head was buzzing a little already; he should have asked Poe where he’d got that whiskey from before he drank it. Or maybe looked more closely at the bottle.

“Kiss me, idiot,” Poe said, and for some unfathomable reason Ben did. The whiskey, probably. Not the way Poe smelled, or his dark eyes, or… or anything.

Poe scooted forward, chest pressing against Ben, wrapping his legs around Ben’s waist. Ben picked him up, mouth still sliding against his, and walked him until his back hit the wall and Poe made this sort of sighing grunt into Ben’s mouth.

He squeezed his thighs tighter, his hands in Ben’s hair, and Ben supposed that yeah, they were doing this again.

-

Eventually they made it to Ben’s bed, and they laid there after. Poe was dragging his fingers lightly over Ben’s chest, drawing random, lazy patterns, and Ben couldn’t be bothered to make him stop. The window was open, letting in a cool breeze and the hum of the city.

“So it’s hard to call it an accident twice,” Poe said.

Ben breathed in and out, in and out.

“I was just thinking, maybe we could do this. I mean, it’s been good, right? We could just… keep doing it.”

Ben looked at the ceiling and wished he would say no.

He didn’t.

-

They fucked in half the rooms in Ben’s apartment, in a refresher stall in a bar down the street from the office, in the  _ Millennium Falcon  _ when Ben’s dad was on Hosnian Prime. In the mornings at work Poe always smiled in that way of his and said good morning, his face inevitably falling a little when Ben mostly ignored him.

It wasn’t like it lasted; he always moved on to a more receptive audience. There was no shortage of beings happy to smile and laugh and flirt with him all he wanted. Ben wondered how many of them had beat him to Poe’s conquest list, how many of them were getting added to it even as Ben kept letting Poe into his apartment.

He wondered what you called a friends with benefits arrangement when you weren’t even friends, when you hadn’t been friends for fifteen years.

A hand smacked him on the back of his head so hard he nearly fell forward at his desk. “Focus,” came his mother’s voice, and Ben scowled at her.

“I’m focused,” he said, though she looked less than convinced as she walked past.

Ben made himself block out his peripheral vision, Poe perched on Kaydel’s desk, and went back to writing. It was a surprise, then, when not long after he heard Poe’s voice echo from beside him.

“A few of us are gonna get drinks after work. You want to come?”

Ben eyed Poe suspiciously. “Seriously?”

Poe shrugged. “It’ll be fun. I know you’re not totally averse to the concept.” There was a glint in his eye that made Ben alternately a bit more warm than he’d been before and a bit more aggravated. He never changed.

“I think everyone will have more fun without me.”

“Nah,” Poe said with genuine cheer. “I won’t.”

“You don’t want me to--”

“Honestly I want you to come to get you drunk so you’ll actually talk to me.”

Ben blinked, surprised at Poe’s complete guilelessness in saying that. “Kaydel--”

“Kaydel, Kaydel,” Poe said in a little sing-song tone. “She’s more interested in the pretty girl who moved in across the hall so you can stop being so disgustingly jealous.”

“Jealous,” Ben muttered. “Nice ego you’ve got there.”

“Maybe.” Poe leaned in. “But you’re coming?”

He clearly meant the innuendo. Ben shivered, slightly disgusted with himself. “One drink.” 

-

Three drinks in, Ben didn’t know why he kept talking. It was only Ben and Poe seated at the bar now, Kaydel gone off with a few of their other colleagues to talk at a table in the back. Poe’s sleeves were rolled up, a few stray curls hanging over his forehead, and Ben didn’t find him attractive at all.

Especially considering the way the human bartender kept smiling at him.

Ben glared at the melting ice in his mostly empty glass. The least the guy could do was ask Ben if he wanted another in between all his flirting with Poe.

“I was surprised when I heard you joined your mother on her new venture,” Poe said, bumping his shoulder against Ben’s. “Couldn’t imagine you as a journalist. Didn’t seem your style.”

“Like it’s your style?”

Poe shrugged. “Dunno. I just always thought if you didn’t go after your uncle you’d be more like your dad.”

“Funny thing is, me and my dad don’t have the smoothest relationship.”

“I know, but… I don’t know. I guess I misjudged you, that’s all.”

The truth was that half the time Ben didn’t even know why he was still here. He had felt caught, and his mother had seemed the only way out. Now that he was here, he supposed he didn’t dislike it enough to do anything different.

“Why’d you do it?” Ben asked. “You were the Navy’s best and brightest. That was what you always wanted to do.”

“Yeah,” Poe agreed, his expression a little more solemn than usual. “It was. I guess… I guess it felt like it was time. My parents, they had such a beautiful life, you know? Before my mom… And I want that, I do, but in the Navy, it was… hard. Hard to keep a relationship. So I made a decision about what I wanted, what was important to me.” Poe was looking off into the distance, his normally expressive face a bit difficult to read. “Then your mother made me an offer, and it felt like, well, here was a way I could still make a difference, even if I’m not in a cockpit anymore.”

Ben wanted to say that it didn’t much look like Poe was doing a very good job of keeping a relationship outside the Navy but he couldn’t quite make himself. He drank the melted ice in his glass and the bartender continued to fail to notice him.

On purpose, Ben was pretty sure, especially when he loudly clunked his glass on the counter, clearing his throat, and the bartender deliberately kept his back turned.

“Another?” Poe said, like he was happy enough to redirect the conversation. The bartender was immediately there to lean forward on his elbows and give Poe his deliberately seductive smile, bringing Poe everything he asked for.

When Poe slid the fresh glass over to him, Ben spun it between his fingers and said, “Must be nice when the whole galaxy rolls over in front of your feet.”

“What?” Poe’s eyebrows were bunching together.

Ben waved his hand expansively in the air. “You smile and get whatever you want, everyone just falling over themselves to help you out.”

“That’s not fair.”

“No, it isn’t.”

Poe smacked the back of Ben’s shoulder, hard enough that he thumped forward slightly. “Dick.”

“That’s me,” Ben agreed, gulping his drink. Why had he agreed to this again? He didn’t even need to leave the office to watch people fawn over Poe, and the alcohol wasn’t that good.

“Come on,” Poe said, sliding the bartender some credits and hopping off his stool, tugging Ben’s belt loops.

“Stop,” Ben said, though it was only half-hearted and he ended up with his hands on Poe’s chest, looking down into his eyes.

“You’ve gone from chatty drunk to mean drunk, and you’re always more manageable when you’re getting off.” Poe dragged his fingers beneath Ben’s shirt, down to the curve of his hip. 

“But,” Ben protested even as he let Poe drag him towards the refresher. He looked back and noticed the disappointed expression on the bartender’s face.

He suddenly felt much better.

“Could you be more obvious?” he said anyway, as Poe closed them into a stall, slightly dingy, but not the worst public ‘fresher he’d ever seen. Stain-free, at least. “I don’t need the office to know you’re…”

“Doing you?” Poe finished cheerfully. “That’s okay, no one cares.”

Ben doubted that. They were journalists. Journalists got paid to care. 

“Kiss me, Ben,” Poe said, his hand already halfway down Ben’s pants.

At the curl of Poe’s calloused palm around his dick, Ben forgot why he had cared.

-

The small kitchen at work was empty when Ben went in mid-day to pour himself some caf. He had been up late meeting a deadline and had slept poorly afterwards, so he was upright mostly only due to his consumption of caf.

“What the hell are you doing with Poe?”

Ben’s hand jerked, nearly spilling his caf. “How do you…”

Stepping farther into the kitchen, his mother made that face she did when she wanted to roll her eyes but was trying to be above it. “I’m your mother, Ben. Besides which, you’re not as secretive as you think you are.”

“I guess we’re not really very secretive at all,” Ben admitted, thinking on it. He had told Poe they should stop doing it in refreshers.

“You’re really not.” Leia stood against the counter and watched him, arms crossed. “You know I want you to make your own decisions, but I’m still going to tell you when I think you’re making bad ones.”

“But you love Poe.”

“I do. But this is…” She pursed her lips. “I can’t see how this will make you happy.”

Ben focused on his mug, the way it wasn’t steaming because the caf was cold, leftover from this morning, probably. “You don’t know anything about it.”

Leia shrugged. “Maybe not. But I know more about relationships than you do and I just think someone’s going to get hurt. Probably both of you.”

“It’s not anything, so no one can get hurt.”

His mother seemed unconvinced but she let it go, merely touching Ben’s elbow before leaving.

It wasn’t anything, Ben reassured himself. Feelings couldn’t be hurt when there weren’t any feelings involved. He and Poe weren’t even friends.

So it was fine.

-

They weren’t friends, but sometimes after they fucked they lay in Ben’s bed together quietly and it almost felt like a relationship. Ben never quite dared but Poe was handsy, running his fingers over Ben’s skin, combing them through his hair, sometimes cuddling up with him. Ben wondered if he was always like this, post-sex affection even if he was never gonna fuck the person again.

He had been like this when he was younger. Not that Ben had known how sex entered into it, but when they’d been kids Poe was always draping his arm over Ben’s shoulders, leaning up against him when they sat together, touching Ben’s hand or his elbow or his knee. The older they got the more it made Ben’s insides feel warm and squirmy, like he wanted more.

Then it stopped, and so did everything else.

Sometimes Ben wanted to ask what Poe was doing. If he had his pick, then why Ben? He clearly hadn’t given a fuck before, when Ben had wanted him to. If he had just been horny that night on Trelos, he could have found any number of willing partners, but instead he had chosen Ben. If it was just about the conquest of it, like maybe having Ben on his list boosted his ego, why did he keep coming back? Sure, the sex was good, but Ben didn’t flatter himself that he was the best Poe had ever had.

He never actually asked though and he probably never would.

Very occasionally, Poe dozed off in Ben’s bed. Just now, his eyes had drifted shut, long lashes fluttered closed, his cheek pressed against Ben’s shoulder. 

Part of Ben wanted to shove him awake, knock him off the bed and force him out. Part of Ben wanted to comb his fingers through Poe’s soft curls, like he had longed to half a lifetime ago.

Somehow the second part won out. He dragged his fingers through Poe’s hair and murmured, “Why didn’t you want this when I did?”

“You could want it now,” Poe said, and Ben realized he wasn’t actually asleep.

Aw, kriff.

Ben pushed himself up into a seated position, knocking Poe as he did so. Trying to cover his embarrassment, he snapped, “Why would I? After everything? With the way you are?”

He maybe should have been more explicitly cruel because Poe only seemed confused, sitting up in the middle of the bed to face Ben. “The way I am? Why are you always so pissed at me?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, no, uh uh. None of that dramatic sulking poodoo. What the hell did I do to you? We used to be such good friends.”

“Yeah, when I was a kid, before I knew any better.” Ben hated that it still chafed, their growing apart. Poe was a nerf herder and Ben shouldn’t care. He didn’t care.

“I went to the academy and you just…” Poe drew his bottom lip between his teeth, worrying at it. “You never took any of my holocomms, you never returned my messages. You were always off-world when I visited.”

“Strange, huh? Someone might actually not want to associate with you.”

Poe looked hurt. “But you were my friend, Ben. I missed you.”

“I was your friend!” Ben said, curling his hand into a fist, feeling the bite of his nails into his palm. Control, control, he told himself. “You were my only real friend and I thought I was in love with you, and you just…” Ben looked away, cursing himself.

“Ben,” Poe said, and scooted closer, laying his hand on Ben’s knee. 

Ben flinched away. “You were always surrounded, all your friends, all the beings who wanted to be near you, and you were… You were always laughing, and I was…” He swallowed, his throat dry, and made himself finish. “You made me feel stupid. Like you could never… I was stupid, I guess.”

“That’s why,” Poe said, and he didn’t laugh, like Ben had feared he would. “That’s why you stopped talking to me.”

“Surprised you noticed.”

“Of course I noticed. It must not have felt like it to you then, but you really were my friend.”

Ben said nothing.

This time when Poe tried to touch him, Ben didn’t stop him. He let Poe’s hand stay there, resting lightly on his thigh. “I was seventeen and an asshole, okay? I knew you had a crush on me and it was kind of flattering, but you were just this kid I’d known for forever, and when you’re seventeen, three years feels like half a lifetime. You seemed like a little kid still. But I’m sorry I hurt you; I’m sorry for being an idiot.”

His throat was still so dry, like sand was stuck in his lungs and he was trying to breathe it out. “Doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It does matter.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Ben said, and jerked away, getting up off the bed. He felt silly, no clothes on, and rummaged for his underwear because it gave him an excuse not to look at Poe’s face. “It was a long time ago, right? And you’ve still got your eager audience. I guess this time at least I got some orgasms out of it.”

“Are you mad about then or now?”

“I’m not mad.”

“Right.” Though Ben was still using the excuse of finding his clothes as a reason to avoid eye contact, he could hear Poe shuffling around and presumably getting dressed himself. His assumption was confirmed when Poe came around the side of the bed to retrieve his boots from near Ben’s feet.

Poe was mostly dressed when Ben finally looked at him, his shirt untucked and his jacket visible on Ben’s desk chair across the room. “It’s obvious you don’t actually want to talk about this, and I’ll respect that. But I am genuinely sorry and I’m not…” He swallowed, his cheeks faintly tinged red. “If you still want to do this, you know where I’ll be.”

Ben’s eyes followed him as he went through the bedroom door, his boots in one hand, his jacket in the other.

Ben sat back down on the bed and wished he knew what the hell he was doing.

-

Poe continued to smile and tell Ben good morning, though he was uncommonly more reserved about it, his smile not as bright and sure. He left on assignment halfway through the week and Ben felt more like he could breathe with Poe gone.

Ben didn’t miss him, but he thought he might miss the way Poe made him feel. He figured that was okay; he hadn’t gotten laid this regularly in… well, in a long time. He missed the warm suction of Poe’s mouth around his dick, the slide of their bodies when they moved together, the wet heat when they kissed. He jerked off and imagined Poe, but that was fine; it was better when the picture came from reality, that was all. When he came he kept on imagining, the weight of Poe’s body, the feel of his face tucked into Ben’s neck, the softness of his hair.

“Kriff,” Ben said aloud.

-

The day Poe arrived back on Hosnian Prime, Ben sent him a message,  _ come over? _ and hated himself a little for it.

Poe’s easy smile as he stood in the doorway half an hour later, running his tongue over his bottom lip, made Ben’s insides squirm in a mix of lust and desire and irritation that he still wanted this, still wanted Poe. The sound his back made, however, thudding against the wall, when Ben pushed him up against it, made it easy to forget everything but how good this was.

-

“No,” Ben said, just as soon as his mother finished outlining her proposed assignment on the New Republic Defense Fleet.

Leia Organa narrowed her eyes, lips downturned. “I think I misunderstood you, Ben Organa Solo.”

Ben sighed. “Mom, please. Don’t make me. You know how much I hate working with Poe.”

“What I know is that he pushes you to write better and this story could use two varied opinions, Poe’s inside knowledge, your outside perspective.” She paused. “What I also know is that I told you how I feel about your… relationship. Perhaps some time together that doesn’t involve a bed will help you figure things out.” 

“The bed tends to be optional.”

His mother raised a hand. “Not a detail I asked for.”

“There’s nothing to figure out anyway.”

“Stop insulting my intelligence. You have your assignment.”

Sighing again, Ben stepped out of her office only to find himself faced with Poe.

Poe, of course, was smiling like he found this all terribly amusing. “Hey, partner. Excited?”

“Extremely,” Ben said as deadpan as he could manage, ignoring the sound of Poe’s chuckle as he went past.

-

Ben had never been to the Naval base on Hosnian Prime, nor to any Naval base, as a matter of fact. He supposed it was about what he might have expected, a bustle of activity, beings of various races in uniforms and flight suits, astromechs of all models, starfighters entering and exiting atmosphere. Poe was clearly in his element, beaming and greeting old friends, likely the only unfamiliar aspect the visitor’s badge on his chest.

A woman named Jessika Pava was their escort, there to make sure they stayed out of off-limits areas and took only sanctioned vids, as well as to answer their questions. She was pleasant enough, Ben supposed, and a friend of Poe’s. 

“Bad luck for me your old squad’s still on Mirrin Prime,” she was saying with half a smirk. “They could’ve saved me the trouble of having to entertain you.”

“Then you would’ve missed the pleasure of my company.” Poe gave her that smile, the one he used at work.

Lieutenant Pava remained cheerfully unimpressed and Ben thought he might like her. The tour was both mildly entertaining and mildly informative, and when they were finished Poe suggested they have dinner together to discuss the story. 

He took them to a diner he knew that wasn’t far from the base, where he claimed the food was cheap but good. Honestly it seemed about what Ben might have expected of a place Poe was fond of, a little rundown, a little less spotless than Ben generally preferred his dining establishments, staffed by a four-armed alien and a droid.

Ben poked at his plate of sliders while Poe chattered on around mouthfuls of something appallingly greasy and fried. He was going on about how much he missed his T-85 when Ben interrupted, “I thought this was about work?”

“Excuse me for thinking we could start by chatting like regular friends,” Poe said without any actual recrimination.  

“We’re not friends,” Ben said, essentially an automatic response.

“Yeah, stars forbid anyone think we are.” Poe nudged Ben’s foot under the table. “Would you rather I called us fuckbuddies?”

Ben coughed up his drink while Poe gave him an innocent smile. “Can we just talk about the Navy? And what our angle on this is gonna be?” he said when he could breathe again.

“Dunno, will you blow me after?”

“We’re working,” Ben ground out from between his teeth, feeling his neck heat up. 

“We’ll need a break sometime.”

“I really, really hate you.”

“I know,” Poe said, and dragged the toe of his boot up and down the inside of Ben’s calf.

-

Ben did take Poe home, and blew him in the sitting room. To be fair, Poe did return the favor, rather enthusiastically.

Later they sat in front of the HoloNet news with their datapads, half watching, half throwing around ideas for their story, and it felt weirdly, comfortably domestic even though Ben knew it shouldn’t be. They weren’t dating, and they weren’t friends, and he kept thinking of his mother. Figure things out.

Right.

Poe’s hand was resting at the back of Ben’s neck, casually, playing with the ends of Ben’s hair, as they sat beside each other on the couch. “Don’t you ever think,” he said, “of what we could do here?”

Ben hummed noncommittally, unsure of what Poe meant, though he was sure Poe would enlighten him.

He did. “Your mother’s trying to make what we say matter, to deliver information that matters. Don’t you feel that? Don’t you feel like… you’re part of something important?”

Shrugging, Ben said, “I don’t know. I guess. You were the one with the hero complex, not me.”

Poe tugged at Ben’s hair. “I just want to tell a story that means something.”

That was why Poe was a better journalist than Ben, he thought. Ben needed somewhere to be but Poe was still that kid who had idolized his Rebel parents, who had dreamed of being in the Navy, who wanted to save the galaxy however he could. It was kind of annoying.

Part of Ben wished he had that surety of purpose, that will to do good and change what he could. Poe was like Ben’s mother in that way, happiest when they were dedicating everything they were to a cause bigger than they were.

“The galaxy has grown complacent,” Poe said, stroking the nape of Ben’s neck. “I’m not a politician, just a pilot, but I’m not sure the disarmament was the best way forward, or that it still is. I would vouch for the beings I served with in the Navy a hundred times over but there’s only so much…”

“Maybe that’s our angle,” Ben said, and pretended he wasn’t inwardly purring like a lothcat when Poe leaned into him and kissed his neck, pretended he didn’t care at all that he had clearly said something right.

He didn’t care. 

-

Ben was having a perfectly acceptable day until after lunch, when he looked up to see an unfortunately familiar green-haired figure stroll in, glancing around until his eyes caught on Poe. His face lit up, smile spreading, and he said, “Poe!”

“Jacen,” Poe enthused, springing up and jogging over to him, hugging him hello.

The sound of their voices seemed to die down to a murmur, though that might have only been because of the rushing in Ben’s ears and the sudden nausea roiling in his belly. Jacen. Bantha shit.

Poe’s hand was curled around Jacen’s upper arm, Jacen’s hand resting on Poe’s hip, as they leaned in to each other, chatting exuberantly. All Ben could think of was years and years ago, looking at Poe looking at Jacen, Poe laughing, the realization that Poe would never look at him like he looked at Jacen, the realization that Ben was nothing more than a dumb kid to be put aside.

“Hey, Ben,” Poe was saying, and he might have said a hundred times before for all Ben knew. He waved Ben over.

His steps leaden, Ben shuffled over, avoiding looking straight at Jacen. “Did you need something?” he asked Poe.

“You remember Jacen? He agreed to talk with us for our story; I thought we could head over to the park and have a conversation. Sound good?”

“I don’t feel well,” Ben said, his chest tight like he was struggling to remember how to breathe. “Think I’m just gonna go home. You can catch me up tomorrow.”

Poe’s concerned expression only made Ben feel worse. “Do you need anything? I can come over later and--”

“No,” Ben interrupted, and left as fast as he could.

-

His bottle of wine was half empty when he heard the knock and Ben didn’t even need to drag himself over to the door to know who was on the other side of it.

Poe rubbed the back of his head as he stood in the hall. “Hey. I know you said not to come but… Are you feeling better?”

He didn’t really know why he did it but Ben stood back to let Poe in. “Kind of. I guess.”

Raising an eyebrow as he caught sight of the wine on the table, Poe said, “Generally drinking when you’re unwell isn’t the best idea.”

“Not that kind of unwell,” Ben said, not knowing why he was saying it.

“Did something happen? Tell me about it?” Poe was moving closer even as Ben was stepping back, until he grabbed Ben by the waistband of his pants and held him still. He rubbed his thumbs over Ben’s hips. “Maybe I can help better than your wine.”

“This isn’t that kind of thing,” Ben mumbled, averting his eyes away from Poe’s intent gaze.

“What kind of thing is it, then?”

“The kind of thing you make worse,” Ben said before he could stop himself.

Damn it.

“How do I…” Poe tugged at Ben’s hips and Ben looked down at him. “Maybe the broody thing did it for your other boyfriends but I’m not really into it. I’d like it better if you just told me what you mean.”

“You’re not my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, okay. Call me whatever you want. Point stands.”

That suffocating feeling from the office was rising again, like Ben couldn’t breathe. Poe’s proximity was making him uncomfortable and he couldn’t fucking think straight; he just kept seeing Poe, a decade and a half younger, laughing, never looking at Ben the way he looked at everyone else, at Jacen, because Ben was awkward and weird and no one would ever - 

“I don’t have what you’ve had,” Ben found himself saying, heat rising in his cheeks. “I’ve never had it. I don’t know what I’m doing, I’m not fucking like you, I’m…”

“Ben,” Poe said, sliding his hands up Ben’s sides, and maybe he meant it to be reassuring but it wasn’t; Ben wrenched back. Poe dropped his hands, startled, but he didn’t push. “I don’t need you--”

“You don’t need me at all! You never did! Just fucking move on, like you always do!”

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

“And maybe I do.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Think I know better what I mean.” Ben raked his hand through his hair. “I don’t need anybody, not like you do.”

“Ben,” Poe said, and the sadness in his tone bordered too close to condescension. “Everybody needs someone to--”

“I don’t! I was fine on my own before you wrecked it! Just fuck your way through the rest of my mother’s staff; I think there’s a few you haven’t gotten to yet.”

Poe’s jaw tightened and he stepped fully back now until it felt like there was a chasm yawning between their bodies. “You know, just because I might smile at someone and tell them they look nice, doesn’t mean I’ve fucked them.”

The silence was heavy, broken up by nothing but the blare of an alarm outside the window, a police speeder. Poe stood there only a moment longer before he turned to stride off, back towards the door and out the apartment.

As the sound of the door sliding closed echoed, Ben realized something. He had actually genuinely insulted Poe. Easygoing Poe, whom teasing seemed to roll right off.

There was a sick feeling settling in his stomach that Ben knew meant that he felt bad.

He ignored it.

-

In the morning at work, Poe didn’t so much as look in Ben’s direction when he came in, let alone smile and say good morning. Ben told himself he didn’t miss it.

A few hours later Poe came by with a data stick to address Ben in a weirdly level, dull tone. “This is everything from Jacen yesterday. You should look it over.”

He dropped it on the corner of Ben’s desk and turned around, gone as quickly as he had arrived.

Thinking about Jacen made Ben feel ill but that was childish and idiotic so he stuck the data stick into the port on his computer and listened to the audio from Poe’s interview, read through Poe’s notes. It was professional and thorough but conversational and relaxed, just like Poe. He had always been better at talking to contacts than Ben.

It was also, Ben realized, stupid to have reacted the way he had. Poe had been doing his job and Jacen had been there to do them all a favor, their families friendly since the Rebellion. A part of him was ashamed.

Ben was the one who next approached Poe, suggesting they discuss the assignment and lay out an outline. Poe agreed, but he was subdued like he never was, keeping purely to business and never smiling.

Ben had really, really fucked up.

-

It continued like that for the next few days, until they met their deadline. 

Leia loved the piece they put together. Ben was proud of it but it felt wrong to think so when Poe was barely speaking to him, treating him like… Honestly Ben had never seen Poe treat anyone like this. He was exuberant and friendly to complete strangers, charming them with his handsome smile and his genuine good nature.

Ben didn’t know what to make of a Poe who wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t laugh, wouldn’t touch his shoulder, wouldn’t say good morning. After they finished their story he wouldn’t talk to Ben at all. When he watched Poe smile at Kaydel in the office it made him feel horrible, but not like before. It made him remember that he had treated Poe poorly.

Because she was sharp and observant and also very much not an idiot, Ben’s mother noticed.

“No one was going to get hurt, huh?” she said, mildly disapproving, mildly judging, and not very mildly projecting an air of ‘I told you so’. 

“I guess…” Ben chewed on his lip and looked at the wall beyond her head. “I guess maybe it was something to Poe.”

“To Poe,” she repeated, and Ben didn’t need to look at her to know what was on her face.

“Right,” he said, and returned to his desk.

Idly he clicked through the folders of research on his computer, vids, interviews, notes, bits of randomness he had gathered for his assignments. He made the mistake of opening the file labeled  _ Trelos: Calath _ , and watched the vid, his eyes settling on Poe’s grinning face, his bronzed skin splashed with splotches of orange and green and blue.

Ben closed the file.

-

At night Ben lay awake in his bed and thought about Poe saying that if he smiled at someone it didn’t mean he’d fucked them, and he wondered why it mattered. If he honestly didn’t care then why the hell did it matter who else Poe had fucked? If he slept his way through the office, what difference did it make to Ben?

He pictured Jacen, his hand on Poe’s hip, Poe’s hand on Jacen’s arm, the way they smiled at each other, and was fourteen again, lonely and inadequate and heartbroken, and suddenly the answer seemed obvious.

He did care.

But that was unacceptable.

The sex was good. Great, even. Poe might have had better but Ben never had. But Poe was annoying and had rejected Ben when it had mattered; he had made Ben feel silly and young. Doing it all over again was just… Ben wasn’t that stupid, okay?

The most ridiculous thoughts kept flitting through his head. Poe referring to himself as Ben’s boyfriend. Poe’s fingers combing through Ben’s hair. Poe kissing Ben’s neck. Poe wanting Ben to come out with him, Poe wanting them to talk.  _ You could want it now. Kiss me, Ben. You don’t mean that. _

Aggravated, Ben took his pillow and pressed it to his face, like he could suffocate the confusion out of himself, but he let up on his grip after a moment, leaving the pillow resting lightly over his face. Fuck Poe, truly. How could he… after everything… and now he had the nerve to - to - 

But mostly, fuck Ben himself, for not being able to get over Poe after all.

-

The next day at work Ben found himself constantly looking over to Poe. He watched him watch a holovid, blue light reflecting on his face, and he watched him with his head down, focused on a datapad. He watched him smile at the fresh-faced intern and he watched him make Kaydel laugh.

Ben wanted to stand behind him and press his nose to the back of Poe’s neck, breathing in his skin; he wanted to curl his hands into Poe’s hair and tug. This was irritating. Poe was still an asshole who was too loud and too proud, and he was still the person who had made Ben feel so small.

But Ben just really wanted Poe to smile at  _ him,  _ and he wanted to hold him, and the fact that he had been the one to cause the hurt this time didn’t feel as good as Ben might have thought it would. It didn’t feel good at all.

Ben wished his mother wasn’t always right, even when she only had half the story.

Admitting that it wasn’t only Poe who had ended up hurt meant admitting that it had been something for Ben, too, this thing they had been doing, and it meant admitting that he had felt something more than lust and satisfaction.

He looked over at Poe again, sucking on the end of a stylus, brow furrowed in concentration, and just wanted this to feel better.

-

Poe’s apartment wasn’t in quite as nice an area as Ben’s was, and the building was shabbier. Ben supposed the Navy hadn’t paid all that well, and the Damerons had never been particularly well off.

Ben remembered being rude about it, when he was young and forced to share a room with Poe when he stayed on Yavin 4. He had minded less when they were older. Any way to be close, when he was dumb and insecure and inexperienced, with no clue how to ask for what he wanted.

It turned out some things never really changed.

He only had to knock twice for Poe to answer, his eyes going wide when he saw Ben. His lips thinned.

When Poe said nothing, Ben shifted his weight and said, “Turns out you don’t need to be seventeen to be an asshole; you can do it at thirty, too.”

“Is that supposed to be an apology?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Well, it sucks, for the record.”

“I know.” Ben chewed on his lip. “Can I come in?”

After a moment, Poe moved aside, letting Ben through the door. He didn’t do anything further than close it, however, leaving Ben to stand awkwardly just inside his apartment.

A glance around showed Ben it was just as he would have expected, controlled chaos. Two pairs of boots by the door, a jacket thrown over the back of the couch a few feet away, a couple of datapads on the table next to what looked like Poe’s dinner. An astromech was charging in the corner, a BB unit, orange and white.

This weird, uncomfortable sensation that almost felt like fondness was surging in Ben’s belly. Of course Poe would retire and hang onto his astromech, live with it like a roommate. He could imagine them working on Poe’s speeder together, making modifications like it mattered how smoothly it flew, like they were still in the Navy.

“Are you going to make a better apology?” Poe crossed his arms over his chest, arching an eyebrow.

Feeling a bit caught in the act, Ben darted his gaze back to Poe. “I…” He swallowed. “Can I just… I miss you,” he said helplessly, feeling like a damn idiot.

Poe’s expression softened just a little. “You’ve seen me every day.”

“Not the way I want to.”

“Thought you wanted me to fuck the rest of the office.”

Ben winced. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Sure sounded like you did.”

“No, I… Poe,” Ben said, wanting to touch so badly but not knowing if it would make everything worse. “I was so kriffing jealous. Being around you is like being fourteen again, half in love even though I didn’t know what being in love was, watching you be so much… so much more than I could ever be, watching you fall for everyone who wasn’t me.” Ben pinched his nails into his palm. “Watching you laugh and shrug me off.”

Poe was wavering, weight shifting forward on his toes, virtually radiating guilt. “I said I was sorry, I--”

“I’m not asking for another apology; I’m just trying to make you understand. It was easier to pretend I hated you because it meant I could also pretend that I wasn’t hurt, that I didn’t care. I just wanted you to look at me the way you looked at everyone else.”

“I was looking at you like that, dummy. You just didn’t notice.”

“Yeah,” Ben said, moving forward, letting himself touch. He twined his hand into Poe’s hair, palm cradling his skull, and Poe leaned into it subtly. “You’re still so irritating but I don’t hate you the way I wanted to. I… I miss you,” he said again, unable to express it better. “I’m sorry. I miss you.” He focused on the line of Poe’s throat, the hollow at the base. “Don’t fuck anyone but me.”

Poe snorted. “Is that ‘I really like you’ in Ben Solo speak?”

“Maybe.”

Poe reached up to rest his palm over the back of Ben’s hand. “It’s not like I was celibate or anything but I didn’t… Carving notches on my bedpost isn’t really my thing. The truth is the only one I fucked from work is you.”

Unable to quite process exactly what that meant, or the surge of emotion rising inside him, Ben blurted out, “Lieutenant Pava?”

“Jess? Are you crazy? She would never have me.” Poe bit his lip, his impish humor returning. “Would’ve been fun though.”

Ben tugged on Poe’s hair and realized he didn’t actually want to know who Poe had or hadn’t slept with, even if it had been his business, which it wasn’t. He didn’t want to know.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to Poe’s, feeling Poe respond, the slide of their lips so good, everything Ben had wanted. He didn’t know if this made them boyfriends now, or if they were just… what had Poe called them? Fuckbuddies? He didn’t know if they were friends, but he knew that he wanted them to be something, and he didn’t want Poe to kiss anyone but him.

It was kind of amazing that Poe didn’t seem to want to kiss anyone but him.

He felt Poe’s hand slide down from his hair over the back of his neck, running down the bumps of his spine, squeezing his ass. He pulled Poe closer, pressed him back to the wall, his body hitting it with a dull thud. Poe insinuated his leg between Ben’s thighs and Ben ground against him, saying, “Hope your bed’s more impressive than the rest of your apartment.”

Poe chuckled and bit down on Ben’s lip, and Ben decided he’d be happy enough to make do.


End file.
